WARNING:

This story contains descriptions of sexual acts involving a man, a teenager and two MINOR boys. Such descriptions are an integral part of the story. While the story may appeal to prurient interests, it is intended to have serious literary value. As a friend once said: "Everyone has the right to fantasy. No one has the right to censor an imagination, or dreams."

With that in mind, know that this story is not true, although it is based on fact and some real events! Further, it is not intended to promote illegal acts against minors, but to demonstrate that men and boys can love each other despite the prevalent attitudes of western society. It is my goal to help readers appreciate that love. The sexual acts described in the story are the result of my imagination. I have not performed these acts, and I do not encourage others to perform them with minors. If the subject of man/boy love offends you, if this material is illegal in your place of residence, or if you are under the legal age for such material, do not read further!

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"... you implicitly declare and affirm under penalties of perjury that you are not a minor or in the company of a minor and are entitled to have access to material intended for mature, responsible members of society capable of making decisions about the content of documents they wish to read...."

The story is copyrighted under my pseudonym, Ganymede. A copy has been placed in the Nifty archives for your enjoyment. The story cannot be used to derive monetary gain. The story cannot be placed in archives that require payment for access, or printed and distributed in any form that requires payment either directly or indirectly.

Any similarity to individuals, living or dead, is entirely accidental. Reference is also made in context to movies, characters, and actors that have become part of modern western culture. No other implication about the true sexuality of the people mentioned or their private lives is intended.

Now that the preliminaries are out of the way.....

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True Blue by Ganymede

Chapter 16

That day, just two days after my eleventh birthday, Byron McIntyre, the Byron McIntyre of True Blue Surfboards, taught me how to surf. I’m talking about really surfing, not just how to get up and keep from falling off because I could already do that, but how to ride a wave the way that waves were supposed to be ridden. With style and passion, and a degree of proficiency that with lots of practice, eventually would become the kind of skill that won state championships.

He spent nearly eight hours with me, alone, just us, no one else. Bruce and Blaine went further down the beach. Byron and I carried our boards closer to the headland because although the waves were smaller, they came in a better formation. We paddled out, we surfed in, we paddled out again. Every hour or so we returned to the beach and put on more suntan oil. My skin was getting noticeably darker. Unlike Blaine, I always tanned quickly, but I still had to be careful not to get sunburnt. We drank lots of water, because far worse than sunburn was sunstroke or dehydration. The insides of my thighs were getting redder, chaffing against the fibreglass board and thick wax and being further irritated by constant immersion in salt water. Board sores were as bad as saddle sores, which I got after a few days of riding at Brindajari. There were many days when I spent more time on my horse than off it, and now I was doing the same again, except I was riding a surfboard instead.

It was the last break before lunch when Byron and I left our surfboards at the water’s edge and walked up the beach to where our towels are. I stretched, arching back, enjoying the sun’s warmth on my body after being in the water for so long.

“Tired?”

I glanced at Byron. “Kind of.”

He was watching me closely, not even looking away when I turned. He seemed to find me interesting.

“We’ll take a breather for while,” he decided.

He kept looking at me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Wrong? Nothing, mate. I was just thinking.”

He smiled. Then, he stretched like I was stretching, lifting his arms behind his head. His armpits were forests of hair. It was ugly to my eyes, reminding me of the sweaty hairy shearers in the shed at Brindajari. They were real men, men who drank beer until their bellies bulged and who always joked and laughed with me, the station owner’s son. They made me laugh, and they told me things my mother would be shocked to hear. It was a crude grownup world that I was part of, but all too soon they made me leave/ then, I enjoyed being alone for some reason I didn’t understand.

I bent over to pick up the bottle of suntan oil. It was time for the hourly dosing of so-called sun protection. The SPF listed on the label was 4!

“Here, let me do it,” Byron offered.

He didn’t give me a chance to answer. He took the bottle from my hands and flipped the lid back. He poured a lot out onto his cupped hand, then slathered both hands together. Automatically, I turned around so that my back was facing him. He worked his slippery greasy hands over my shoulders, pressing his fingers into my neck and collar bones until I squirmed, then down my back, massaging his thumbs against my shoulder blades, dragging both oily palms down to my lower back, reaching my board shorts before pushing up again. It felt wonderful. I sighed.

“Feels nice huh?”

“Yeah,” I heaved a sigh.

I was being massaged by a grown man for the first time in my life. I wriggled under his strong hands, because it felt good to do so. It was like rubbing a squirmy smooth seal, I imagined. The only seals I had seen were at Taronga Park Zoo, but I had been seduced by them. They were playful and sleek, almost like boys as they swam through the water. He brought his hands down to my hips, then up my sides, rippling his fingers over my ribs as if he was counting them.

“You done good out there this morning, boy-o,” Byron said as he patted my bottom. “A couple of those last waves were hard to ride. I was glad to see you give them a burl.”

“I was okay?” I asked hopefully.

“Okay? Hm, well,... I wouldn’t say you were the bee’s knees, but you have definite possibilities.” He put his hand on my shoulder and turned me around to face him. He was smiling. “Yeah, definite possibilities. You’re a fast learner, that’s for sure.”

He bent down, picked up the suntan oil bottle and squirted more oil into his hand. He slathered it over my chest. There was so much of it that a dribble ran down my belly until it reached my board shorts. His fingers followed it. Without warning, his fingertips slipped under the loose damp waist and kept going. It was the last thing I expected. His fingers, greasy and invading, came within an inch of my penis before he pulled his hand back.

“Don’t want to waste any, do we?”

He winked at me. He had come so close to touching my penis that I didn’t know what to say. I gulped. He smirked.

“I scared you, huh. Do you mind?”

I shrugged.

“Nothing wrong with a bit of groping between friends,” he snickered. “From now on I want you concentrate on style. Think of yourself as putting on a show whenever you stand up. Pretend there’s thousands of people on the beach and they’re all watching you. You want them to think you’ve got absolute control of the wave. You’re not just riding it. You’re always showing what you can do. I’m not talking about being a show-off, understand? This is way different. This is about using your body properly, about being co-ordinated.”

I nodded, listening intently. Byron smeared the oil over my chest. He seemed to linger in certain places. It was almost as if he enjoyed touching me there. He came back to my nipples again and again. He concentrated on the sides of my belly, always with one finger pressed into my belly button. There was no getting past the fact that I liked being touched by him. Everything that he did made me feel funny inside. It was the sort of feeling, that if it kept on, would make itself apparent in my penis. It was thrilling, deep inside. There was no other way of describing it. I felt it becoming tighter and hotter behind my shorts despite the wet clinging cloth.

“Hey Bunny-boy, I hear you’re turning into quite a kisser,” Byron remarked as if he was commenting on the weather.

I didn’t answer. My face turned crimson. Was there nothing that was a secret among the four of us? Of course, it had to be Bruce.

“You know it's a shame kids your age think kissing anyone is bad. Kissing someone you like a lot is nothing to be ashamed about. You've seen Blainey and Bruce kiss their Dad, haven't you?”

“Yeah.”I ventured. It wasn't the same.

“You know, Allan, a lot of boys your age are afraid to show affection for someone they like , except a girl. That’s dumb, mate. ”

Standing there in the blazing hot sun, Byron moving his hands, slowly, sensuously back and forth over my chest, the sun blazing down, getting hotter and hotter, and something that made me anxious, a feeling inside that if he didn't stop soon, I would be trembling like a leaf. By then my skin was glistening with an oily sheen. My nipples quickly became hard little points when he pinched them between his finger and thumb and rubbed them. They hurt in a nice way. My penis got even harder and hotter.

“Kissing someone you like a lot is perfectly natural, you know, Allan. You kiss your mum don’t you?”

My answer was a shrug.

“Trust me, mate, there's nothing wrong with sucking some spit with your friends. It’s good practice for when a guy gets a girlfriend, if he gets a girlfriend,.... You want to know something, Allan? Now don’t go getting berko on me, but,…. “ He leaned closer to share a secret. “Don’t tell him I told you, okay? Blaine kisses me sometimes too, and I kiss him as well.”

His finger lifted up, moving slowly from my navel to under my chin. He tilted my head back so that our eyes met.

“Does that bug you?”

“Nope,” I said confidently.

Byron hesitated, resting his hand on shoulder.

“You know I have sex with Blainey, don’t you Allan?”

“Yeah,” I murmured. “I kind of figured that out for myself.”

I wasn’t about to say that I really didn’t know what was going on until both Bruce and Blaine told me, or that I still wasn’t sure that I believed them.

“Does it bother you?”

“Not anymore.”

Was I being honest? I didn’t know, but it was what Byron wanted hear. He smiled sheepishly, relieved even.

“Sure?”

“I know you love each other,” I added circumspectly.

It was the best explanation I could think of. Byron himself had said that if two people liked each other a lot it was normal for them to have sex. It didn’t matter if they were both male. If an uncle and nephew had sex it had to be for the same reason, but they were family, so it was ‘love’ instead of ‘like’.

“Yeah, we do,” Byron agreed. “We love each other a lot. Only I’m not his best friend though, Allan. See, you are, and that makes you really special to him.”

That made me feel better.

“You know what happens we when have sex, don’t you Allan?”

I gnawed on my inhibition for a while. “Kind of. It’s what poofters do.”

“Yeah, if you have to put it like that, I guess it’s what we do.”

I turned away, feeling my face growing hotter.

“Don’t you believe my cock goes inside Blainey’s bum?” Byron asked frankly.

“I don’t know. I guess it does,” I answered warily.

“Oh, it does, believe me it does, Allan,” Byron said reassuringly. “It goes in all the way actually. You’ve seen how big mine is, haven’t you?”

I nodded apprehensively. “Doesn’t it hurt him?”

I had to know. Given how Blaine and Bruce talked about it, I still didn’t understand how it was possible. All I could think of was how large Bruce’s cock was when I held it in my hand, and Byron’s cock was even bigger. My finger could fit inside my bottom, but it was tiny by comparison.

“Yes, it hurts him, but only a little bit. It’s not how you think. It’s a nice hurt. I know it’s hard to believe, but he wants me to do it.”

I didn’t know what a nice hurt was, unless it was like what Byron did to my nipples or when Blaine sucked my penis in the car during the trip. That was a ‘nice hurt’. It felt so good that it hurt. Then, I remembered what I had done earlier that morning. Putting my finger inside my bottom felt nice. There was no getting past it. And it had hurt too, but it was a nice hurt. Things were starting to make more sense.

“I guess.”

“Now Blainey’s used to it, hell, he’d do it all the bloody time if I let him. He can't get enough, but that's what it's like for a boy, you know.”

I didn't answer.

“I bet it won’t be long before you’ll be putting that skinny dick of yours in him too,” Byron mused almost to himself. “I just hope I’m there to see it.” His thumb stroked my cheek as he gazed at me. “I’m real glad you’re Blaine’s mate, Allan,” he said quietly. “Just don’t go ruining his life by telling anyone, will you?”

“I won’t. I promised not to tell, remember?”

“I know you did. You’ve got it bad for him, don’t you?”

“Huh?”

“Blainey. You really like him a lot, don’t you?”

I tried to shake my head. “He’s my best friend,” I muttered.

“Yeah, I know. But it’s a bit more than that, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” I almost choked saying it. His eyes were intense, demanding, making me say things that I realised should have been known only to myself.

“You know exactly what I mean. I’ve watched the two of you together. Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell him.”

“What? What aren’t you going to tell him?” I demanded.

Byron smirked. “Let's just say you’ve got a bad case of puppy love and leave it at that, mate.”

“Huh?”

“I’m not blind, Allan. You’re in love with Blainey. It’s no big deal. Shit, it happens all the time. Don’t be ashamed about it.”

“How? I’m not,… What makes you say that?” My voice was breaking. I felt like I was trembling. Standing there in front of Byron was increasingly difficult.

“Oh, this and that. See, I know what to look for. There are lots of signs when a guy’s in love, you know.”

“Like what?” The words spilled out.

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t know. Neither does Bruce.”

“You’re crazy!” I said hotly.

“Am I?”

“Yeah!”

“Let me tell you a secret. See, I like boys, Allan. A lot. That means I understand them. After a while you get to know what they’re thinking about.:

“Like mind reading?”

“I wish could read your mind, but it’s not like that. The thing is, if you watch people long enough you see what they're like. I think I’ve pretty much got you figured out. There's nothing about you that I don't like. Poor old Bruce is in for a bit of a surprise, though, I must say.”

“You’re weird. Man are you weird.” It was all that I could think of.

“Hey, so what if I am weird. It's no big deal, but if I am then so are you because we both like the same things.”

“Like surfing?”

Byron smiled. “Listen, Allan,… I’m not going to be in your way forever. He’ll be all yours again when you go back home. Just enjoy your time up here. Just don't leave Bruce hanging. He's got it bad for you. You can learn a lot from him, mate. And not just about surfing. If you loosen up, you can learn the kind of stuff you need for when you’re alone with Blainey,… or any boy who comes along.”

After a few seconds, of watching my face redden, he moved to his knees. He applied the oil to my legs, again lingering in certain places as his hands moved up my thighs. He seemed to like doing the inside of my legs more than the outside, and the higher he went the more attention he paid. Below my knees received a very cursory application. A lot of what he did was unnecessary because I was pretty much covered in suntan oil from head to toe by then, but I wasn’t about to tell him to stop. Whenever his fingers reached my board shorts, he paused at the hems. Then, his fingers inched slowly up my inner thighs, almost reluctantly, or as if savouring what he was doing. The legs were cut narrow enough that his hand couldn’t go very far before it became too constricted to move. My penis got hard again. It bulged out into the cloth. We both saw it. Byron smiled at me, silently asking permission to touch it. I wasn’t sure what to do. I think I smiled. He grasped it for a moment or two, squeezing into the bulging hard flesh. When he released it, there was an oily mark on my shorts where his hand had been. I didn’t say or do anything. I was too busy worrying what Blaine would think if he saw Byron doing that to me.

Then, it was my turn. Putting suntan oil on Byron was a bit like putting suntan oil on a dog. Running my hands over his body, through his hair and across his powerful muscles was unsettling. I really didn’t enjoy doing it. Strangely, the previous day, I watched Blaine doing the very same thing to Byron and he had enjoyed it a lot. I could tell by the smile on his face and the bulge in his shorts. It had the opposite effect on me. I felt uncomfortable doing it, but I had to do it because Byron had done it to me. I did it as quickly as I could to get it over with.

“Crash job, mate,” Byron said when I finished.

It was anything but a first rate job, at least that was what I thought until he turned around again. I nearly giggled. I ended up snorting. It looked like there was a piece of driftwood stuck inside his shorts, because his erection was pointing to the side.

“What’s up with you, Ace?”

I pointed down, smirking.

“Cripes!” Byron laughed as he looked down. “That’s all? That’s your fault, that is, kiddo.”

“My fault?”

He nodded and began walking down the beach. “Yeah, you did it. You don’t see anyone else here, do you?” he replied.

“Me?”

He grinned reassuringly, disarmingly so, and he looked right at me. It would be years later before I appreciated the effect that look had on a young boy. All I realised at the time, was that I wanted Byron to love me as much as he loved Blaine.

“You’re a really sexy kid, Allan. You turn me on like you wouldn’t believe. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”

He was halfway to the water before I came out of my stupor. He hadn’t said what I thought I heard him say. Or, had he? Not knowing what to think, I hurried to catch up with him. It was back to surfing lessons. We stopped surfing only when the sun disappeared behind the hill.

Chapter 17

That night, when we finally called it quits and put the surfboards behind the shack, we were all too tired to think about building a fire and barbecuing our dinner. Instead, we made cheese and tomato sandwiches and ate on the deck. I drank my third bottle of beer and managed a respectable burp at the end. Lest the reader think that all we did at McIntyre Beach during those three weeks we were there was to surf, drink beer, and have sex, that night we played poker. Not strip-poker, because when you’re naked there’s nothing to take off, but regular five-card poker like the shearers played at Brindajari.

Both Blaine and Bruce already knew how to play, so everyone joined together to teach me the rules. It should have been confusing but it wasn’t that difficult once I understand the order of the winning hands. My card-shuffling skills were quickly on par with Blaine’s. Byron helped me decide what to do for the first few hands. After that, it was just a matter of dumb luck, or so it seemed to me at the time. No doubt my grandmother would have said it was but another of my steps along the path to depravity, but she wasn’t there to disapprove. I lost far more than I won, which wasn’t too bad considering that we were playing for Smarties. (smarties = m&ms)

It was bizarre in a kind of weird and wonderful way, seeing Byron and Blaine sitting side by side, knowing at least in principle if not practice what they did when they were alone together. By then, I accepted that they had sex. Byron put his cock inside Blaine’s bottom. Not just in a little way, but all the way inside. Byron, Bruce, even Blaine had made certain that I knew what was involved. I played the notion back and forth in my mind, which probably accounted for my lack of concentration. I didn’t mind losing. Every time I lost Bruce would pop a Smartie in my mouth. After a while, Byron started doing the same thing with Blaine. We started deliberately losing hands. Eventually, we ran out of smarties and it was time to go inside.

It was only when I stood up that I realised that three bottles of beer might have been too much to drink for an eighty-pound eleven-year-old boy. Right away I had to hold onto the railing because the deck lurched beneath me. I did the same thing that any boy who drinks too much beer has to do eventually. I needed to pee badly. I swayed to the end of the deck. I held onto the railing with one hand and held my penis with the other. I didn’t realise how much pee could be inside me. It went on forever. Before I was halfway done, Blaine was standing beside me, matching my stream with one of his own.

Bruce and Byron were talking about us as we stood there waiting for it to end, both taking advantage of the pressure in our bladders to see how far we could make it go before it splattered in the sand. Both of them made ribald comments about our bottoms. That I was finally beginning to understand why they might find a boy’s bottom interesting to look at, didn’t make the situation easier. They said that I was sexy. They said it loudly so that I was sure to hear them. I glanced at Blaine. He shook the last few drops off, but kept playing with his penis. He realised that I was watching and stretched it out by pulling on the head. It looked silly, so long and thin.

“Get yours hard too, Allie,” he said encouragingly.

“Why?”

“So they get horny,” he said quietly.

Of course, Blaine was aware that I would not need to play with my penis to make it erect. Just seeing him bare was usually enough. I kept looking down, oblivious to the comments from behind us. Unlike other times, when the mere sight of Blaine’s private parts sent excitement surging through me, this time it was amusing. I stood there next to him, the person Li loved more than anyone else in the whole world, watching him stroking, fondling, bringing his penis to erection. Only when his penis was close to being fully aroused and he turned around and showed him achievement off to Byron and Bruce was there an immediate thrill inside me. I was struck by the sheer splendour of a young naked boy. He was dark-skinned because of the slight amount of light that managed to reach the far end of the deck. His lean silhouette was intensely beautiful. He was poised before me, revealing the wonderful curves of his body, the squareness of his shoulders that were noticeably broader than my own. I breathed deeply, staring at him, as the urge became stronger. I wanted to touch him, to run my hands over his sleek skin, and yes, to kiss him the way that his older brother kissed me. It was then that Byron licked his lips.

“Nice one, Blainey,” he said admiringly.

Bruce had a silly, somewhat embarrassed look on his face, but he was looking at me and not at his brother. Then, without warning, Blaine placed his hands on his hips and turned around. I didn’t believe what he did next. His hands moved from his hips to his buttocks. He bent forward, shamelessly looking up at me, while pulling his cheeks apart. He didn’t have to say anything. I could tell what he was thinking. He wanted me to know that he was sexy, that what he was showing them was the place where he had sex, even though I was already very aware of it.

“Now that’s an even nicer view,” Byron enthused as Blaine straightened up. He was giggling. “Like I was just saying there’s nothing quite like a boy’s bum, is there Bruce? Do that again Blainey-boy and I’ll really stretch your arse for you tonight.”

‘Stretch’. The word went through my consciousness like an arrow. One word that said it all. It said what I had been thinking about most of the night, worrying about, hating myself for not being able to put aside. Standing beside Blaine, I couldn’t see what Byron saw, yet I appreciated what he was talking about. Blaine’s bottom was beautiful, enticing, intensely desirable. But more than that, that lovely rounded bottom would have to stretch a lot for Byron’s cock to fit inside it. Even if it didn’t hurt all that much, I reasoned that it would be permanently stretched.

Suddenly there was a roar of laugher, followed by a shameless giggle. Perhaps Blaine did bend over again. I wasn’t paying attention. My thoughts were in disarray. What was happening to me? I wanted Blaine all to myself. I wanted to do that to him, to stretch him, and to have his penis stretch me in return. I didn’t want to share him with Byron. I didn’t want Bruce. I wanted Blaine. He was beautiful. He was a boy. I wanted him so badly that I ached inside.

“You’re on, mate,” Byron shouted boldly.

Blaine shook his head teasingly. He laughed and said something under his breath that I didn’t quite hear. He backed away quickly as Byron stood up and began to walk forward. Byron’s cock was horizontal, wobbling from side to side, but still pointing directly at us. Blaine’s hand grabbed at mine. He tugged, pulling me along with him.

“Hey, By, you old perv. If you want to stick it in my bum tonight, you’ll have to catch me first,” he shouted crudely.

Then, as Byron made a grab for Blaine’s other hand, we turned and ran and jumped. Together we vaulted from the deck into the soft, still-warm sand, and we ran. We ran as fast as we could, pounding into the darkness. It was both fun and scary, realising that Bruce and Byron were only a few paces behind us. We ran into the sand dunes, back behind the beach shack, darting from side to side, always staying close together, because it was so dark that if we got separated, we might not find each other again. We laughed and shouted, and called our pursuers obscene names. We took advantage of our size and agility to elude them in the darkness, but never letting them lose sight of us.

The game lasted for a surprisingly long while, although towards the end we were no longer running but creeping through the sand dunes like soldiers in the desert. Finally, Bruce came up from behind us. He had circled around us. We saw him with only seconds to spare. There was only one avenue of escape. We went the other way, running between the two sand dunes, zigzagging from side to side and slipping in the shifting sand. Suddenly, Byron appeared out of no where. He grabbed me around the waist and brought me down. I had been tackled many times, but never like that, never without my clothes on, never by a grown man who had something on his mind that wasn’t supposed to be there. His hands searched my body while I struggled to get away. His left hand went to my ribs and arm pits where I was most ticklish. His other hand grabbed my penis, his strong fingers relentlessly squeezing into my testicles, but not too tightly. I didn’t complain. Blaine and I played cock-grabbing games often enough for me to know better. Instead I flailed around and screamed for help, choking on my laughter, but Blaine had troubles of his own. Bruce had caught him when he turned back to help me.

After a frenzied minute or two, Byron dragged me up from the sand. He lifted me with one arm under my belly and chest, and his other hand between my legs, still grasping my sex organs. I had never been manhandled before, thrown around like wool in a shearing shed. Bruce had his brother pinned down, lying over him in the same way that he laid over me, tickling him without remorse.

“Hey, what should I do with the blond beach brat?” Byron called out. He was gasping and laughing as hard as I was.

“What ever you want,” Bruce shouted back. “He’s all yours, By.” He dug his fingers into Blaine’s ribs eliciting a screech and peals of laughter from his younger brother.

“He’s mine, huh? He’s mine, mine to do whatever I want,” Byron announced loudly in a guttural Frankenstein voice that was more amusing than scary.

From where I hung, I could look up underneath my belly. Perhaps I should have been surprised by what I saw, but I wasn’t. I was pleased. Byron’s massive cock was fully extended and sticking up so that the plum-sized head was squashed into my belly. I could feel it whenever we moved. His balls were enormous, like the big brown eggs I collected from the hens at Brindajari, but it was his cock that made me anxious. His cock went inside Blaine’s body. It went all the way inside, if what he said earlier that day was true.

And the scariest thing of all? It was hard, not because of Blaine, but because of me. It hadn’t been hard when he first tackled me. It had happened when he was touching my private parts. Despite everything that had happened over the last three days, I realised only then, and for the very first time in my life, the immeasurable power of sexual attraction. That attraction was not just between men and women either. A boy could have a powerful effect on some men, and that for some reason I still did not understand, both Byron and Bruce found me desirable.

Yet, as momentous as that realisation was, I did nothing about it, at least not then. I was smart enough to appreciate the possibilities, that if I wanted to, I could use their interest in me to my advantage. Instead, I was stunned by the realisation. Byron continued to feel my crotch with his right hand and my body was responding exactly as it was supposed to. Perhaps it was because of my growing erection that I struggled to get away, even getting so far as force him to set my feet down on the sand in order to get a better grip on me. Then, I jerked away and leaped back out of reach. By then, my penis was nearly fully grown. He laughed and tried to grab me. I darted away, giggling, still feeling his hand on my private parts, only they were no longer private. I didn’t have to look down to see that my penis was hard as well.

“Enough, beach brat,” Byron laughed. “Man, I give in. You win.”

He slumped down into the sand and stretched out like he was exhausted. I stepped closer, wary of a trap. He shook his head, still laughing.

“Man, you’re a handful aren’t you?” He inhaled deeply to catch his breath, inspecting the same hand that had been clamped over my groin for several minutes. “You’re a really sexy kid,” he said quietly to me.

As I gazed down at him, that same hand deliberately groped his cock and balls, brushing off the sand. Only then, when our eyes met, did he smile knowingly. He took another deep breath, as if reaching a conclusion, and then he wrapped his hand around his engorged member. He started pulling on the skin slowly, keeping his eyes on mine. He was wanking right there in front of me, looking up at me, letting me know what? That he was thinking of me as he did it? After a few moments that made my heart pump at twice its normal rate, he glanced over to where Bruce was still tormenting his brother.

“Hey mate, let him go. I’ve got an idea for some real fun with these two babes.”

Bruce rolled off Blaine and sat up. “Yeah?”

“How about a piggy back fight? I haven’t had one of those in years”

“Yeah!” Blaine and I exclaimed simultaneously.

“Okay. But only if I get to ride on By,” Blaine added quickly. It was a forgone conclusion. Still he looked at me impatiently, as if I needed convincing. “Bruce is yours, Allie, because you’re smaller.”

It took a few moments to get on our human steeds and then the fight was on. In the cloak of darkness, without clothes, with no one around for miles to hear us, our battle took on epic proportions. It was complete with screaming more than the occasional obscenity at each other and giving blood-curdling war cries when the attack was underway. The teams were not evenly matched, which was evident from the outset when Bruce and I were brought crashing to the sand in a matter of seconds. Sixty or seventy pounds probably separated the two teams in weight, and although Bruce and I were more agile and probably had better balance, the weight difference was all but impossible to overcome. Only one time were we able to bring Byron and Blaine down and that was at the very end, when I clung to Blaine’s arm and he had a firm grip on my arm. Byron and Bruce used all of their strength to get us apart, charging like wounded elephants at each other again and again. That time all of us went down,

We sprawled side by side into the sand, arms and legs tangled, laughing until we cried, still trying to get away while keeping hold of each other. Then, without anything more than accepting it was finally over, we flopped back into the sand hill and stared up at the star-studded darkness overhead. The sky was clear to the horizon. It was like our own private observatory.

“Man, just look at that fucking sky up there, will you?” Byron breathed. “It makes you feel about as big as a grain of sand.”

“Or like one of four hundred million sperm swimming around when you spunk,” Bruce added.

Both Blaine and Byron laughed. I smiled, not really understanding, because the concept of four hundred million microscopic things swimming in the tiny droplets that Blaine ejaculated was completely foreign to me. And as for Bruce, there was so much of his slimy stuff that I didn’t know what to think about it other than it was disgusting. Certainly, there was no way that there could be four hundred million little Bruce’s in it, though! It was all very confusing. Lying there on the sand that night, not willing to ask, I became very conscious that my sex education was sorely lacking. The little that I had learned from Blaine since he attended the father-son night at school was nonsense in my current situation. As interesting as it was, at that point in time I didn’t want to know how babies were made. The things that I did want to know about were not something I was prepared to ask anyone about.

I gazed up, blissfully still unaware of what Byron and Blaine were doing, yet very aware that Bruce’s arm was under my shoulder, that his fingers were caressing my ear. I felt contented, even loved as I soaked up the warmth next to me. Bruce was more than a friend. He would never be my best friend, because that was reserved for Blaine, but over the last few days he had become such an important part of my life that it was impossible to conceive of not letting him touch my body. When his other hand drifted onto my belly, I didn’t push it away. His fingers stroked gently up and down, circling around my navel, not going further down than the start of my pubis, or higher than where my ribs started. It was safely reassuring.

For as long as I could remember, Bruce was someone who I trusted, respected, and admired. Hero worship brought me that far, but that night, a new element was added to our budding relationship. What we did that night was far more than what I was used to doing with him or anyone else for that matter, not even after a year of playing sex games with Blaine. Gone was the urgency of wrestling and tickling, of boyish curiosity, or playful touching under the sheet. Instead, there was pleasure entirely for its own sake, a sybaritic joy of physical sensation that was enhanced by a growing emotional attachment.

After a few minutes of playing with my belly, his fingers ventured further. They grazed across my nipples and made them into pointed dots. He kneaded them, squeezed them, all the while holding me against him by using the arm under my shoulders. I pretended to ignore what he was doing, staring straight up and not saying anything. There was no need for us to talk. I don’t know what I would have said anyway. ‘Look at all those stars?’ It was a time for silence if ever there was one.

As I lay there, submitting to him amid a thousand uncertainties of life, Bruce became someone else. He was someone who existed only to make me feel good. Then, almost as if he was tired of playing with my chest, his hand moved down. It didn’t stop until it closed over my penis. By then, it was erect and I was anxiously waiting for his touch. He brushed off the sand, tickling, stroking, possessing the part that made me male. I sighed. It was impossible not to. His fingers worked along my penis, tantalisingly light, barely a feather’s touch. He brought his lips close to my ear.

He kissed the lobe of my nearest ear, licking and nibbling gently until I pulled my head away. A minute passed, perhaps longer, and always his practised hand stayed between my legs, feeling, fondling, keeping me aroused.

“You’re as horny as can be, aren’t you?”

“Huh?”

“Man, your dick is so fucking hard, Bunny,” he whispered. “Don’t pretend you aren’t interested in messing around with me because I know you are.”

What was I supposed to say? I wasn’t pretending anything. I was perfectly happy just lying there on the sand, stretched out, glowing with the happiness that only a boy can know when his penis is hard and he’s the centre of attention. I could tell that Bruce was happy as well, but it was for a different reason. It was because he had everything that he wanted. How did I know that? It was in his voice, nervous, excited, joyful. It was how Bruce’s fingers glided up and down on my penis. He knew exactly how I liked it. He didn’t yank on my penis the way that Blaine did until I showed him how to do it properly. His fingers massaged the inside of my penis. At least that was how if felt.

His fingers suddenly became slippery and I lifted my head up to see what he was doing. He’d done something to make my penis wet and slippery. In an instant it felt even better than what he’d been doing just a few moments earlier. His entire hand was slippery, sliding freely up and down, spreading the slickness wherever his fingers went. It felt like Blaine’s mouth except Bruce exerted a great deal more pressure, squeezing even as his fingers moved against the skin. Before the wetness began to dry, I quivered and arched my back, pushing my penis harder into his hand. I was desperate for more. I glanced to the side, looking at Byron and Blaine. They were dark shadows, yet I saw enough.

I didn’t want to watch them, yet I did. I wanted to see what Blaine did when he was with Byron in the privacy of their bedroom. I had to see how they had sex. It wasn’t quite what I expected. Byron kneeled over Blaine, crudely, brazenly sucking his penis. The sound was unmistakable even if I couldn’t see the actual details of what they were doing. His head went up and down, smoothly, then jerking, moving my best friend’s penis in and out of his mouth so that it made a popping sound. Blaine’s hands were behind his head, stretching his body out full length. He was very relaxed about it, I thought. After a minute, perhaps more, Byron rotated around and knelt over Blaine so that his head was above Blaine’s crotch. It looked like a very odd position until,…

Byron’s knees moved slowly outward so that his hips lowered directly over Blaine’s head.

“Your nuts are hitting my nose,” Blaine giggled shamelessly. His arms moved up then, settling on Byron’s back, pulling him closer, or so it seemed.

“So? You know what to do with them by now,” Byron said. He smacked his lips loudly.

“I’m not sucking your balls. They’re way too hairy. Just move back a few inches more, will you?” Blaine instructed.

Byron shuffled back, adjusting his position before his knees spread further apart. There was the distinct sound of Blaine licking. Byron growled from the back of his throat. He lay down over Blaine. His head went between Blaine’s thighs. They both began to jerk their heads back and forth, or at least that was how it looked in the darkness.

Without warning, Bruce’s lean body shifted away from where he had been pressed against my side. I realised instantly what he was doing as soon as the warmth of his hard cock was no longer touching my hip. He was moving back and down, getting into a different position, a position that would give him much greater access to my private parts. I closed my eyes, imagining it was Blaine instead, suddenly finding it very easy to convince myself that I would do the same to his cock if he asked me too. I wanted his penis in my mouth more than I ever imagined possible.

Even before Bruce’s lips touched my penis I realised that it was going to be nicer than what I’d done with Blaine. He was five years older than his brother. He had five years to practice his technique. His mouth swirled over my penis and engulfed it. He sucked it into his mouth and held it there between his lips as I trembled and tried to stop myself from groaning. My legs moved further apart, involuntarily offering myself to him. One hand grasped my testicles and began to knead, not hard enough to hurt, but still causing me to squirm below him. As soon as the pressure diminished, I pushed up into the air again and his grip tightened. His suction increased as well. His fingers suddenly pushed against my testicles to relocate them. In an instant, they were immersed in his hot succulent mouth.

“Oh god,” I moaned.

I closed my eyes and tried to stop from shaking. I wasn’t at all certain that I liked what Bruce was doing to me, and it was about to get even better, or worse, depending on one’s perspective. His mouth was nothing like Blaine’s mouth. His tongue swirled relentlessly, stabbing and poking and sucking hard. It was far more aggressive, demanding all of my concentration.

Bruce did the very last thing I expected. His hand, no longer being used to fondle my testicles, slipped underneath me. I felt him pushing through the sand, lifting up against my buttocks, until I got the message. I drew my legs up, using my arms behind my knees to lever them still higher and out of the way. Bruce’s fingers danced between my buttocks, brushing away the sand that clung to me. His hand cupped my right cheek, soothing, reassuring, easing his fingertips deeper and deeper into the cleft of my buttocks.

His head lifted away before I wanted him to stop. I wanted him never to stop, yet he seemed to understand that he could anything he wanted and I would not stop him. My penis throbbed relentlessly. It was wet and slippery and aching to be back inside his mouth. My thighs lifted up several inches higher, responding as much to the sudden coldness on my soaked crotch as the insistent hot pressure between my buttocks.

“Please?” I begged meekly. “Don’t stop.”

Bruce grinned back at me in the darkness. I saw the white of his teeth. “Who’s stopping, mate? I’m just getting ready to have some real fun down here.”

With that he swivelled around, placing his knees on either side of my shoulders and straddling my body. He settled down over me, not giving more that the lightest of contact, but this time facing in the opposite direction. It was the same way that Byron was lying over Blaine. I gulped, because the implication was very clear. If Bruce was going to suck my penis, then I was supposed to do the same to his. I was not at all certain that I could do that, even if I wanted to. That was the dilemma that rose up before me. I didn’t want to suck Bruce’s cock, although I would have given just about anything for the chance to suck his younger brother.

“I don’t want to,” I whispered to the dark body that hovered above me.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you’ve done it to Blainey, mate, so there shouldn’t be a problem. Mine’s just a bigger version of his.”

I wanted to scoff at that. They had nothing in common except shape. Blaine’s penis was small, and for all practical purposes, hairless. It was soft and tender, and it fit inside my hand like it belonged there. That wasn’t true for Bruce’s cock. Frankly, it frightened me. Although I would never have said so to him, I thought the hair on his body was unattractive. Even more disturbing was the coarse wire that covered his groin. It was dark and repulsive. For a boy whose interest in grown men was all but non existent, Bruce’s body was sexually unappealing. Even though I envied his strength and ability on a surfboard, that was as far as it went.

Beside me, Byron and Blaine were writhing in the sand. I couldn’t see anything more than a tangle of arms and legs, but I heard a curious grunting sound, a sound that if I tried to put it down on paper, would be nonsense. I’ve heard other boys make the same or a very similar sound over the years, and later that night I was to make the same sound myself, but at the time, it was very unsettling. It was somewhere between a whimper and a groan, and it was all about joy and being stretched wide open with a couple of adult fingers plunging deep inside a small anus. That sound happened when a boy was getting close to orgasm from having something inside him, but at the time I didn’t know that such a thing was even possible. I was simply swept along in the crazy excitement of the moment.

Bruce gave no sign that my reluctance to reciprocate by sucking his cock bothered him. His head came closer and closer and his fingers poked at my penis and scrotum until he had all of it inside his mouth. What I didn’t realise was that in the process Bruce managed to put a copious amount of saliva on the fingers of his right hand. His left hand slid under my buttocks and lifted up, simultaneously dusting off the grains of sand. His other hand moved into place immediately. His slippery fingers inched along my crack, searching, sliding, stabbing until he found was he was after. He stuck one finger into me before I realised what he was doing. It went in easily, painlessly because it wasn’t all that far, but I still winced, my mouth agape in shock. It felt good, better than good, better than wonderful. There were no words that I knew to describe that sensation as his finger sank further and further into my rectum. I groaned loudly. Bruce’s finger corkscrewed, rotating inside me. Then, it lifted up, lifting my body up at the same time.

The pressure that formed inside me was instant and intense. In seconds, all that I cared about was for Bruce to keep doing whatever it was that he was doing to me. It felt like something inside me was about to burst. I strained down, wanting the pressure to increase, for Bruce to push even harder. Suddenly, his finger began to back out and I slumped down, quivering from the exertion of being arched into the air like Sydney Harbour Bridge. His left hand grasped behind my right knee and pulled my leg up, bending it, half turning me. His finger shoved back, driving into my very core. The force he applied caused my penis to ram into his mouth. The pressure was back with a vengeance. No sooner than I had gotten used to that feeling again, than his finger was on the way out again. I groaned loudly and tried to push back at him, trying with all my strength to return his finger to where it had just been.

“Hey Bruce.”

Byron’s voice was very close, startlingly so. Instantly, Bruce’s fingers slid out of my anus, but stayed close, fingering around my quivering hole. It felt odd, like my body had opened up inside and something had been taken out, yet it felt nice as well, especially the way that Bruce’s fingers rubbed gently on the one area that was sore. With nothing else to do, I looked up between Bruce’s thighs, past his dangling hairy balls that were but an inch away from bouncing on my nose. Byron was standing right next to us. He was holding Blaine’s hand, swinging it slowly back and forth. It was hard to tell who was swinging who. Until then, neither Bruce or I had any idea that they were that close and watching us. I was glad that Bruce had pulled his finger out of my bottom. For some reason I didn’t want Blaine to see his brother doing that to me, but perhaps it was already too late. Blaine had a big smirk on his face.

“I’m taking Blainey back inside. He doesn’t want to get sand up his bum when I root him,” Byron continued.

His bluntness did not seem out of place. Indeed, by then it would have been strange if they just disappeared into the night without telling us where they were headed or what they were going to do.

Blaine giggled suddenly. One could only imagine why he thought getting sand in his bum was funny, because it really wasn’t funny, especially from my perspective. He jerked on Byron’s hand, tugging to get him moving in the direction of the shack, wherever it was. I frowned, as jealous as I had ever been. How could he abandon me, his best friend in the whole world?

“I see you’re really getting into it, Brucey, but don’t push him too far, okay. And whatever you do, don’t be trying to root him out here in the dark, mate. You’re going to need a bunch of grease to do it properly.“

Bruce laughed. So did Blaine, giggling and looking down at me. He kept pulling on Byron’s arm. Byron kept staring down. Bruce’s fingers slowly squeezed back into my anus, not one but two of them, not going very far inside, but it was far enough that all he needed to do was push a little harder to get past the muscle that was holding them back. His fingers rotated, pushed a little harder. I felt my opening being stretched wider. I tried not to fight it even though two fingers felt more than double the size of one finger. I got the impression he was showing off, but I couldn’t be certain. Then, his hand pulled back and slowly drifted away, brushing over my cheek. He cupped it, and squeezed just once in a deliberate acknowledgement of the importance of that part of my body, letting me think that it would be coming back in the near future. His hand moved to my hip and came to rest on my belly. It seemed like my crack was wet and quivering. I squeezed down with my inner muscles, trying to make it stop, wanting the ‘opened up’ feeling to go away if his fingers weren’t going to be there.

“Okay, okay,” Byron said in mock irritation to Blaine who was all but hanging off his arm by then.

He was still looking down at us, watching what Bruce was doing, although he could not have seen very much in the darkness. I wanted to put my legs down and pretend nothing had happened, but it was already too late. He had seen Bruce insert two fingers into my anus without much difficulty.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming, Blainey. There’s nothing wrong with getting him used to the idea and stretching his hole a bit but just take it easy on him, Bruce. Yeah, I’m coming. Man, you get these little buggers horny and all they want is root, root, root.”

They left us, ambling hand in hand, Blaine giggling, both of them whispering their secrets into the darkness. Bruce and I were alone. I knew what they were going off to do. ‘Root’ was just another way of saying ‘fuck’. I didn’t want to think about it. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I wondered what they did, how they did it, what it felt like for Byron, for Blaine. My head swam with a thousand thoughts and at the heart of it all was Blaine. Did he stand up and bend over for Byron to do it to him? Actually, that was about as far as my knowledge about homosexuality went, because it was the way that boys did it in a corner of the playground when teachers weren’t around, or rather pretended to do it, making suggestive pelvic thrusts at each other as part of some power game. It seemed logical of course, if one wanted to insert one’s penis into someone else’s anus, but what did I know?

“They’re going back so Byron can fuck him, aren’t they?” I muttered as much to Bruce as to myself.

Strangely, the ‘f’ word did not sound out of place. It was the only word that I could think of to describe what I was worrying about, besides repeating what Byron said. The very idea of doing that to Blaine sent an excited thrill through me even as I tried not to think about it.

“Yeah. he’s a lucky bastard all right.” Bruce sounded as envious as I was, although it was for an entirely different reason.

I was confused. Who was a lucky bastard? Byron or Blaine? It seemed as if I spent my entire life trying to understand what was going on around me, and as soon as I thought I understood, I realised how little I knew.

“Don’t worry about it, mate,” Bruce said consolingly. “Don’t be in a hurry to grow up. I like you just as you are.”

His fingers pulled on my erection, pulling it down between my thighs, then releasing it so it snapped back against my lower belly.

“I’m not in a hurry,” I growled.

Why did he seem to enjoy making me feel like a child? My grandmother would sometimes say the same thing to me, but never in the same wistful tone. Usually, she was telling me to grow up or to act my age. The mood was gone. I rolled away from him, lying on my front and pushing my feet through the sand. The sand was noticeably cooler on the surface than it was just a few inches down. I worked my hands deeper into the sand and closed my eyes. My imagination took over. Were they doing it yet? How far was it back to the shack? It couldn’t be all that far because a lot of our earlier running around had been exactly that, more or less in circles. Did it hurt?

“How’s your bum feel, Bunny?” Bruce asked lewdly.

I shrugged ambiguously, not willing to explain further. It felt different. It felt changed somehow, but maybe it was me. I felt exposed, if only because my bare body was revealed to the stars overhead. However, as I thought about it, I realised what he was talking about. He wanted to know if he had hurt me. Suddenly, it felt tender, abandoned, yes, even empty. Why was he asking me that? Was he planning to do to me what Byron was going to do to Blaine? I was sure I didn’t want to do that with him. But why? Why not? If Blaine did that with Byron, why couldn’t I do it with Bruce.

“It’s okay,” I answered apprehensively.

“You liked getting your bum fingered, didn’t you?”

“Uh,…” Did I? I still didn’t know how I felt about him doing it with his finger. There was no getting past the fact that it felt wonderful, but sticking your finger up an arse-hole was also a disgusting thing to do to someone.

“It’s okay.”

He laughed and then bent down, leaning over me, rubbing my shoulders. He was doing his best to make me feel good. I relaxed and closed my eyes. I was tired and my muscles were sore from spending the entire day surfing. My skin glowed from the almost-sunburn I had received. I wanted to go to sleep. His hands moved up and down my back, getting closer and closer to my crack, but never ventured onto my bottom. If he had, I don’t think I would have stopped him. With a laugh, he suddenly flipped me over onto my back. There was no way that I could stop him.”

“You’re really sexy, Allan. You know that don’t you?”

“You’re crazy,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“Yeah, crazy over you.” Bruce laughed. “Hey, you like me, don’t you?”

“Yeah, a bit,” I admitted, because I did like him. I liked him a lot and I was glad that he liked me back. It just bothered me when he talked like that.

“Enough to be my boy friend.”

“Jesus! Don’t be a drongo.”

Bruce laughed. He wasn’t making fun of me. He was trying to tell me something. Part of me didn’t want to hear it. Part of me did. I seemed to be going through life being confused. I shook my head, denying, trying to look away, but Bruce hovered over me, still grinning. His groin was pushed against my side. From the hot hardness of it, I could tell what it was.

“In case you haven’t noticed, you dope, I’ve got a dong. So, er, like can’t you find yourself a girl because unless you’re blind or something, you ought to see I’m a boy,” I informed him.

“I’ve noticed. I didn’t ask you to be my girlfriend, did I?”

“No,” I relented. “Don’t act stupid, Bruce.”

I stared past his head to the stars above, trying to forget about seeing Blaine going off hand in hand with Byron. They were going off to have sex and leaving me alone with Bruce, as if it was all part of some big plan. I tried to ignore him.

There were some nights when I could lie for hours on the back veranda at Brindajari and look at the stars. I’d seen hundred, perhaps thousands of meteors over the years, flashes of light streaking across the sky from one horizon to the other. I’d even seen one of the American satellites returning to earth. It was as bright as a star. It was burning up on re-entry. Supposedly it crashed into the Pacific Ocean about a hundred miles off the east Australian coast. It was a long way from Brindajari.

“Are you mad at me, Bunny?”

“Nope,” I said sulkily. “I don’t get it, that’s all.”

“What don’t you get?”

“Everything!” I took a deep breath and sighed.

‘Will you get mad at me if I tell you something?”

I shrugged.

“I,… I,…”

“That’s exciting,” I said, not even trying to conceal my sarcasm.

I wanted to hurt him because I was hurt, because I wanted to be talking with Blaine, doing things with Blaine, and he was in the shack with Byron. Probably having sex with him. Bending over, letting Byron put his cock inside his bum. I didn’t want to think about it, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“I love you, okay?”

I didn’t believe him. Even then, after all that had happened since leaving Sydney, I didn’t understand. It didn’t make any sense. Boys didn’t love boys, not unless they were poofters, and even then, from everything that I had ever heard, they probably didn’t love each other.

“I do, you know, Bunny. See, I can’t help it”

Bruce wanted me to say something, anything. I was dumbfounded. He meant it. He wasn’t joking. I tried to block out what he was telling me, but it wasn’t possible.

“Bunny, please. Say something. Don’t be mad at me. I’ll do anything you want. Please?”

He shook his head as if denying what he’d just said, yet I could tell that he meant every word. It was hurting him to say it, to look at me staring up and ignoring him. Why did I feel so,… so angry? I wanted to hate him, but seeing his face, so humble, so anxious, I felt sad. It was the tone of his voice, even more than his face, that affected me, I think. He wanted me to forgive him for something I really didn’t comprehend. Instead, I glared up at him, challenging him to do something to me even though I didn’t know what I wanted him to do. Without thinking I said the magic words.

“Suck me.”

What had I said? Perhaps I was testing him, teasing him, trying to hurt him even more by making him do something that he should not do, but which even I realised that he badly wanted to do. I didn’t want him to do that, did I? He wasn’t like Blaine at all. Nothing like Blaine. Blaine was my age. Blaine was a boy. Blaine, who I would have allowed to do that every day, for as long as he wanted. Blaine, who was still a boy, even if he had little hairs at the base of his penis. I wanted to take the two words back again, but it was already too late.

He grinned momentarily. His head came forward in a rush in case I changed my mind. His tongue slurped over my penis, licking along the shaft. That was all it took for my resolve to melt. I wanted him to put it back inside his mouth again, back where it was warm and soothing, where it felt best of all, where it didn’t matter how tight the skin of my penis was because it felt so good. I reached up and touched the back of his head. Instead of lowering his head and taking my penis back into his mouth, he kissed my belly, then moved on to licking my belly button. Then, his head lifted up. He grinned. He was breathing in gasps. He climbed on top of me, both of us trembling when our bodies touched.

Bruce pushed me into the sand, kissing me with his hot wet lips, trying to stick his tongue further inside my mouth than it had ever been. His tongue moved back after a few seconds and then he sucked on my lips. After a minute, I couldn’t stop myself. I began to do the same thing to him, sticking my tongue into his mouth, using my lips and teeth to gnaw on him. My heart was pounding in my ears so loudly that I couldn’t hear the surf. It was just the two of us, writhing, groaning, then grunting softly as he moved his pelvis against mine. My penis had become very hard. It was squashed against his, sliding past, then pulling back. Hot and hard and quivering from the sheer thrill of what we were doing. I kept thinking ‘he loves me’. ‘This is crazy’.

In an instant, all of it became very clear to me. I liked Bruce, but I didn’t love him, at least not the way that I loved Blaine. It was the first time in my life that my consciousness grappled with the concept of loving someone besides my mother and grandmother. As Bruce pawed and humped against my bare body I came to the conclusion that I loved Blaine, not as the best friend who had shared my life since kindergarten, but as someone who I wanted to make love with. Blaine was my life, my very reason for existence. At the time of my epiphany, I was eleven years and two days old.

Yet as much as I loved Blaine, I could not, and did not want to stop Bruce from doing whatever he wanted to do to me. Everything felt so wonderful. It was like I was being swept along. I was at his mercy. I quivered uncontrollably underneath him, making strange sounds that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside me. He could do to me whatever he wanted to do and I would do nothing except groan and utter meek whimpers of pleasure.

His thrusting became much faster after a few minutes. Faster and faster, pumping our sex parts together. My hands clawed his back, partly trying to hold back the throbbing sensation that welled up inside me, partly to make him slow down because in a way, it hurt. Nothing worked. I gave up. It became slimy between us, at least where his cock slammed back and forth against my belly. Faster and faster, excreting more and more of the stuff that made us slippery. Then he began to lunge, forcing me down into the sand. At the same time, I bucked and writhed under him. Sand went everywhere, getting in my face and hair. However, I didn’t want to stop. Not then, not ever. He groaned, grunted, gasped, and rammed his body down onto mine. His thighs strained, and then he began to jerk. The warmth flooded up my chest as his cock continued to stab against my belly. Slipperiness suddenly covered me from my groin to my neck. Of course, I should have remembered from the last time, but for the next few moments, before I realised what it was, I was overcome. It was disgusting in a way that I would always remember, because I naturally assumed that it was urine on me. Despite my repulsion at being covered in something that felt terribly dirty, reason quickly took over. It wasn’t pee. It was much too slippery. It was like before. It had everything to do with why Bruce was totally exhausted.

Lying in the sand with Bruce still on top of me, with his gasping beginning to slow down, only then was I able to stop trembling from the thrill of what had happened. More than the fact that I was covered in Bruce’s semen, was the realisation that I, Adam James Harding, had made it happen. It was all over me, but it wasn’t over for the night. Without warning, Bruce rolled off me, still breathing hard. His hand rubbed over my chest and belly, smearing his semen all over my torso. I watched him do it. It was shiny in the dark. There was no colour to it. No smell. Just slimy warmth wherever his hand moved over my belly. Guilt came quickly from being so submissive to another male, but it lasted only seconds.

“You’re mine now,” Bruce murmured.

Then, sliding it down, grasping my slick penis, rubbing frantically at my rigid flesh. With only two or three hard jerks I began to twitch. His other hand swept over my belly, and then pushed my right leg higher so that it was crooked over his thighs. For a few moments, his hand searched under my bottom. Instinctively, I lifted up higher. I needed what he was going to do, holding my breath, waiting, hoping, knowing. His fingers pulled at my cheeks, pushed, poked around looking for my opening. He shoved a finger in hard, but this time it was slick and it slid in easily, going deep inside me before I realised. Then, twisting, stabbing, making me cry out. Suddenly, I felt something hurting, an intensity unlike anything I had ever known, an urge that kept on getting stronger and stronger. His hands moved even faster, one hand grabbing my penis and almost vibrating, barely touching yet feeling much nicer than anything that Blaine had ever done to me, except put it in his mouth. And all the while, the fingers of his other hand were trying to ram deeper inside my bottom. It felt incredible. Whatever he was trying to put inside me was so much larger, so much better than what he’d done before. The sensation concentrated somewhere deep in my bowels until I came close to exploding. I couldn’t help arching my body, straining into his hands to get even more of the incredible pressure inside me. Grunting, gasping, clenching my teeth and eyes, wanting it to stop, to never end. Bruce’s hand was a blur between my thighs. I could hear flesh slapping, his fingers forcing into my bottom until I wanted to scream out loud.

And then, bursting everywhere, or sinking into a chasm, or being swallowed up, aching deep inside. I slumped back into the sand and shoved Bruce’s hand away from where he was hurting me. His other hand was buried in the sand, his fingers lodged inside me. Not one finger like before, but more. It was impossible to tell whether it was two or three fingers. I wanted to cry out loud when the shudders began to fade. Bruce smiled down at me, gently stroking my hand while I grasped my throbbing penis. Only then did I pull away from the hand beneath me. It was a strange feeling when his fingers pulled free. Empty, quivering, not able to think straight.

“What happened?” I whispered after a while.

“You just had a really good wank, that’s all mate,” Bruce smirked. “That’s what happens when someone sticks a couple of fingers up your bum. You go over the top,” he added gleefully.

I smiled weakly at him and closed my eyes, still wondering why it felt so different with Bruce. It was more than him sticking his fingers in my bum. Blaine and I had wanked each other so many times over the last year that it had become an almost daily habit, but it never felt like that. Suddenly I was very sleepy. The intensity of my orgasm left me utterly drained.

I must have fallen asleep for a while because the next thing that I remembered was Bruce shaking my shoulder.

“Hey, wake up, Bunny. It’s time to go.”

“Huh? What’s wrong?” I yawned. My grandmother would have told me to cover my mouth. Bruce smiled.

“Nothing’s wrong. Aren’t you cold?”

“A bit.”

My front was cold. Not my back, because it was lying in the sand. I felt down, sleepily, encountering something on my belly that was vaguely wet and sticky. Bruce’s semen was still there. I struggled to me feet and brushed the sand away from my front. The tackiness was unpleasant, but there was no way I could get it off short of going for a swim. Bruce’s hand moved to my back to help where I couldn’t reach, but I shrugged him off. I didn’t want him touching me, not after what had happened such a short time ago. I needed time to think, time to work out what was worrying me so much. There was a problem that I had to deal with. It was by far the biggest problem that I had ever had to grapple with.

“What’s wrong?’ he asked.

“Nothing. I’m tired, that’s all,” I replied grumpily. Guilt welled up again inside me. There was no escaping it. All of sudden, I wanted to be far away from Bruce. Far away from everyone.

I started to walk away from him, not at all sure I was going in the right direction except that it was the same way that Byron and Blaine had gone.

“Are you pissed at me or something?” Bruce called from behind me.

I shook my head, stopping but not turning around. “I’m tired, okay?” I snapped over my shoulder. “It’s nothing you did,” I added with a sigh. It was what I had done with him. I had enjoyed it too much.

“You sure?”

“I need to be by myself for a while.”

“Okay. I guess I understand.” Bruce seemed to struggle to say it. “I’m here when you want to talk. Okay?”

“Okay.”

I scuffed my feet through the sand. Part of me wanted Bruce to come with me, or at least offer to come with me.

“Just don’t go in the water. There’s sharks around at night.”

“I know. I saw a big one in the surf this morning.”

“When you were surfing?” Bruce asked.

“No. When I went for a walk. You were still in bed. I think it was a tiger,” I added.

Bruce came slowly up to me. He winced a smile. His expression said that he wanted to touch me, but instead his arms were by his sides.

“They’re around this time of year. If you see one surfing you know what to do?”

“Yeah, let it use my board,” I joked.

Bruce laughed. “Good one, Bun. How about getting your cute little bum back on shore before he decides to have a nip on your leg. Was it big?”

I shrugged, thinking back. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be by myself any more. I liked being with Bruce. He was fun to talk with. He made me feel good inside.

“Yeah, I guess. It was hard to tell.”

“Did it had stripes?”

“I think so. It was pretty far out.”

Bruce nodded. “Byron’s seen tigers over fifteen feet out there.”

“Is that big?” I pretended not to know better, using a high-pitched voice that came out like a squeak.

Ten feet of any kind of shark was huge, more than big enough to tear off an arm or leg in a single pass, but for a tiger shark, ten feet was enormous. At fifteen feet, it didn’t bear thinking about. I would be a snack on the way to dinner.

“Bruce?”

“Yeah, mate.”

I struggled to find the words. Finally, they came in rush. “What we did,… it,… well it means I’m a poofter, doesn’t it?”

Bruce gave me a bored look. “Maybe, but so what? It’s no big deal if you are. Anyway, if it does, then it means I’m one too, right?”

I shook my head quickly. Then, meeting Bruce’s eyes, I saw the answer. He seemed to stare right through me. I wanted to cry then, because I knew what I was. I was a poofter! Me! Allan James Harding was a poofter.

“I am. I am, aren’t I?” I had to know. My entire life depended on it.

“Like I said, Bunny, who knows? Who the fuck cares? I don’t, that’s for sure, mate. Maybe you are. Maybe you aren’t. Hell, maybe I’m a poof as well. You want to know something really important? It doesn’t matter a damn what you are.”

“How can you say that?” I asked miserably. “Like it doesn’t matter if I like girls or not.”

“Do you?” Bruce asked with a smirk. He gave me a friendly push to get me walking again. “So tell me, mate,… Pretend I’m your dad. We’re going to have a father-son talk.”

Bruce had no idea how much those words stung me. However, there was no way that he could have known. He was trying hard to be funny.

“Okay, son, I have to know,…Get this right and you can pick Dolly’s box. Do you like girls?”

Under any other circumstances I would have laughed because his voice was much deeper than usual, and just about every boy at school made Dolly and ‘Pick-a-Box’ jokes that were derived from the game show of the same name.

“I don’t know any!” I said honestly.

“Hmmm… none at all?”

“Not really, I mean not like that,… like having a girlfriend or anything,….Anyway, no guy my age likes girls very much.”

“That’s my point,” Bruce said calmly, returning to his normal tone. “You’re too young to know what really turns you on, Bunny. The only way you’re going to find out for sure is to get a girlfriend and get yourself laid.”

“Yeah, like that’s going to happen any time soon. I don’t see any girls around here, do you?” I said meekly.

“Bun,…” Bruce sighed. “Be honest with me, okay? What we did back there,… did you really not like it?”

I tried to think about it. The best I could come up with was that I had enjoyed it at the time. It was before that I worried about, when part of me didn’t want to do it, when I wanted to be with Blaine instead. And afterwards too, when I had time to think about it, I felt bad about what I did, lying under him, letting him put his spunk all over me. Again, my thoughts shifted back to Blaine. Whenever Blaine and I were together doing ‘stuff’, I always enjoyed it, before, during, and afterwards. That was the problem. But I couldn’t tell Bruce that.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “You made me feel good.”

“That’s the way it’s supposed to be,” Bruce said seriously.

We stopped walking. He stooped down, kneeling in the sand before me. He looked up at me, his features shadowy in the dark.

“I really don’t know how to say this,” he said very quietly. “I can’t help loving you, Allan. Maybe that means I’m a poof, because I really, really want to have sex with you. I can’t help that either. If you want, I’ll never touch you again. All you have to do is say the word.”

He paused. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I thought I heard him sniff like he was going to cry. There was something about him that made me rest my hand on his shoulder. I thought about asking ‘What’s the word?’ but it would not have been amusing.

“Bunny,….”

I swallowed. I backed away. My life was like one of the crazy rides at Luna Park. I was becoming a roller-coaster of emotions. I was being shaken from side to side and even being turned inside out. I wanted Blaine. I wanted Blaine so badly that it hurt inside, but I couldn’t have Blaine. I tried to shake my head. Damn, there were tears in Bruce’s eyes. I could see the wetness shining on his cheeks. He was crying because of me, because I was going to reject him. He could tell that just from how I stood, feet braced, grimly determined to go my own way. I crumbled.

“Let’s go back,” I said despairingly. “I don’t want to talk. I’m tired.”

“Allan?”

“Yeah.”

“I have to know.”

“What?”

“Do you love me?”

“I don’t know.”

I loved my mother, and my grandmother too. And I loved Blaine too, but it was different. I loved him in a way that I wasn’t supposed to. I loved everything about him. I loved Blaine because he was my entire life, but also because he was a boy like me. I sighed deeply.

“I like you a lot, okay?”

“No, it’s not okay.”

“Why do you have to tear me apart?” I demanded angrily.

“I don’t mean to. I thought you really enjoyed what we did. You sure acted like you enjoyed it.”

“I liked it, okay!”

“Then why don’t you say so? Why do you think that enjoying yourself is the worst thing in the world?”

“Because it is! Because,…” I choked. “I can’t help it. I know I’m,… but I can’t help it,… I don’t want to be,….But I am,… Blaine and me,… we’re best friends, but I want to be more than his friend,… and I don’t want anyone to know,… I know it’s wrong,…”

Bruce took a deep breath. His hands reached out to me. I blinked back my tears and bravely stepped forward, letting his hands take hold of mine.

“It’s okay, Allan. No one’s every going to know. Just me and you.” He smiled weakly. “I’m not got to tell, and neither are you.”

“Except Byron already knows how I feel, but Blaine doesn’t,… and I don’t know what to do,… and,… hell,…. I’m so fucked up.”

“It’s no big deal, Allan. Guys have sex all the time. Maybe they’re poofters. Maybe they’re just having fun. It really doesn’t matter so long as you enjoy yourself.”

“This is different,…”

“No it’s not. What do you think By’s been doing with him while you’ve been with me tonight? Playing tiddly winks?”

Even as miserable as I was, I still managed a smile. “They’ve probably been reading comics,” I sniggered.

“That’ll be the day. Allan. By’s probably spunked up Blainey’s bum twice by now,....” Bruce shook his head slowly. “You really have no idea how much I love you, do you? Okay,… Here’s the deal.”

“What deal?”

“Stop interrupting and just listen for a moment, will you?” Bruce smiled up at me. His hands tightened on my hands. “Here’s what I’m thinking. You and I can hang out together as much or as little as you want. I won’t try to make you have sex with me again. If you want to do something, then we will. I’m not going to pressure you and make you do it.” He stopped to take a deep breath. He sighed. “I want to have sex with you in a bad way, but I don’t think you do, at least not yet. So we’ll just be friends until you’re ready.”

“I don’t want just be friends,” I said miserably.

“But I thought that was what you wanted.”

“I don’t know what I want. I want,…. “ I wanted to say ‘Blaine’. Instead, I smiled. “I’ll race you back to the shack.”

“I thought you said you were tired?”

“I did.”

“Okay, I’ll race you on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“The loser has to suck the other guy’s dick for five minutes!”

Bruce didn’t wait for me to agree, disagree, or negotiate. He leaped to his feet. At the same instant, I took off running in the direction that Byron and Blaine had gone. After a few paces, I realised that Bruce wasn’t pursuing me. I stopped and turned around. Bruce was nearly invisible in the dark. He was running in the opposite direction. I took off after him, running across the loose sand, charging up the sand dune only to find that he had outsmarted me yet again. He had turned around and was running in the direction that I had started to go. By then, I was more than a dozen paces behind him. I pursued him all the way back to the shack. No one sucked anyone’s dick that night because we were both too tired to do anything except brush our teeth and crawl into bed.